


It's Warmer with You Around

by TiBun



Category: Marvel
Genre: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020, Deaf Clint Barton, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Clint Barton, Kisses Bingo 2020, M/M, One Shot, Protective Natasha Romanov, Secret Relationship, Shovel Talk, Swearing, WinterHawk Bingo, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27002671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiBun/pseuds/TiBun
Summary: Clint and Bucky hadn't told anyone they were together yet, so when Clint ends up being kept in medical again, Bucky spends the days away, getting updates from JARVIS, and sneaking to sit by Clint's bed at night.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 8
Kudos: 136
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020, Kisses Bingo, Winterhawk Bingo Round Two





	It's Warmer with You Around

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable characters, I only explore the possibilities.
> 
> Bingo fills:  
> Kisses Bingo - Tracing fingers between other fingers  
> Winterhawk Bingo - Shovel talk from Natasha  
> Bucky Barnes Bingo - "That wasn't nice"
> 
> Big thankyou to Pherryt for being my beta! <3

Bucky never had much difficulty moving around silently in the dark. Hydra had been strict with training his enhanced body to be the silent deadly phantom that had been the Asset, and even after he escaped them, found himself again, and began building a life rather than destroying the lives Hydra ordered, the bastards’ training and enhancements had been permanent. He hated the fact that his skills were almost all credited to shitty fucking Hydra, but they were damn useful at times.

And it wasn’t like  _ all _ his skills were because of Hydra. He’d been a damn good sniper before they got their hands on him, so that was his, even if they had pushed that skill to a higher level, it was  _ his _ . As was the new skills he was developing now that he was free and able to do whatever he damn well pleased.

Well, within reason of course. There were times when his mindless assassin mindset flickered in the back of his mind and he felt the urge to slaughter annoying people, but he held himself back. He didn’t want to kill innocent people anymore. He didn’t want to kill good people. Hell, he didn’t even want to kill at all, but some people pressed all the wrong buttons, making the option tempting.

Particularly his best friend’s crush. Bucky didn’t know why or how Steve Rogers had developed a crush on the ever annoying Tony Stark, but the tiny man with an oddly shaped beard and a big brain was what caught the punk’s attention. Tony was also the one person who could churn Bucky’s good mood into a homicidal one just by entering the room. He was loud and abrasive and always poking at Bucky’s arm, wanting to fiddle around inside when Bucky just wanted to be left alone.

He was getting better though. Between Steve, his therapist, and the very few people he’s allowed himself to open up to all supporting him and helping him, he was getting better.

Maybe he did always come off as being a ‘grumpy cat’ as Tony called him, but he was toning down his murder stare. 

But none of that mattered right now. Now he was on a personal mission as he moved undetected through the dark corridors of the tower, his enhanced hearing and eyesight making it easy for him to dodge the night staff who worked the medical floor.

Technically, it didn’t matter if he was spotted, it wasn’t a restricted area, and those living in the tower had twenty four-seven access to most areas of the tower. There were only a few restricted areas, and a few areas that were only open under invitation only—such as Tony or Bruce's labs and workshops. Medical was not restricted, though the doctors and nurses were allowed to kick visitors out of rooms if the patient needed rest or treatment privacy or whatever reason they had for the good of the sick or hurt. But that was why he was silently sticking to the shadows and dark halls as much as he could. He’d have to slip unnoticed through the well lit areas soon, but if he got his timing right, that wouldn’t be an issue.

The nurse on duty would turn him away, send him back to bed. He was sure. It was, after all, around three in the morning, and he wasn’t there for treatment, he was there for visitation.

He stayed back in the shadows, waiting for someone to disappear out of sight before he moved into the well-lit halls and towards the room he knew his target lay. Well, he wasn’t a target in the sense of any real mission he’d ever gone on, but sometimes it was hard to separate his personal goals and determination from missions to be carried out. It was something he was still working on.

Finally reaching the room, he slipped inside and closed the door behind him again, his eyes adjusting once more to the dimness of the room. It wasn’t dark like some of the halls had been. The lights were off, but some light shone in through the window from the city and moon. It was dark enough not to disturb anyone’s sleep, but light enough for even the unenhanced to move around without tripping into anything. Not that the resident of the room needed to go anywhere in the night.

Clint Barton had not woken up even once since he was placed in that room three days before. He had been out on a small mission with Steve. It was supposed to be quick and easy, but Steve had come back in a panic as he carried Clint’s body in his arms.

Bucky wasn’t sure what had gone wrong. He hadn’t been listening to Steve’s rambled report, too caught up in how his gut twisted in despair. Clint got hurt often, but he looked dead in the moment he lay limp in Steve’s arms. He looked dead as the medical team on duty rushed in to take Clint away, looked dead even now as he lay cleaned up and tucked in among the white bedding of the hospital room. It was only the steady beeps of the heart monitor that assured Bucky that Clint was only asleep.

No, asleep wasn’t the right word. He knew how Clint slept. Clint wasn’t a tame sleeper. He rolled around a lot, hugging full-bodilly to whatever he could get his arms and legs around. He didn’t lay on his back unmoving like this.

But he wasn’t dead, and that was the important part.

Bucky didn’t visit during the day. He couldn’t bring himself to. He knew that if he did, he’d end up sitting there all day which would raise questions he wasn’t ready to answer. He knew Steve would be happy for him if he knew the truth, but Bucky was still working on letting himself have nice things. Clint was amazing and understanding, letting Bucky set the pace of their relationship, but part of Bucky still felt that he just didn’t deserve the happiness Clint brought him. He’d done so many bad things as Hydra’s Fist. He still held too much guilt inside him to let the world know that he’d found a piece of sunshine. He wasn’t willing to give it up to his guilt, but he wasn’t ready to face what the world would say if they found out.

So, he stayed away during the day, asking JARVIS for updates on Clint’s condition when he was alone, and visiting only in the cover of night.

“Hey Doll, how was your day?” he asked as he pulled a chair closer to the bed, sat down, and took hold of Clint’s hand, running his fingers over the scraped and calloused skin, slowly tracing the length between his fingers and feeling the warmth of his palm. “It’s real boring without you at the range, you know. No one else holds a candle to your skill. All too easy to win the ‘best marksman’ competition. I challenged Wilson to try using your ‘okay to borrow’ bow today. The guy would have missed the broadside of a barn. You would have had a great time laughing at that...and then you would have given him some pointers because you’re so much nicer than me. I just laughed silently.”

Only silence answered him, and granted, even if Clint was awake, he wouldn’t be able to hear Bucky with his hearing aids sitting on the table next to the bed, but it was still hard. Bucky sucked in and let out a shaky breath as he continued to trace Clint’s fingers with his own. 

“I much prefer our date nights with you responsive, you know? This kind of sucks…” Bucky lifted Clint’s hand to press a kiss to his knuckles.

“If you hurt him I guarantee no one would find your body.” A voice spoke suddenly.

Bucky jumped, dropping Clint’s hand to go for the gun he kept on him. Spinning around to the window, he pointed his weapon at Natasha.

Huh. Just when did she get there and how had he not noticed?

He lowered his gun, leveling his usual glare at her. He didn’t dislike the woman in the least. In fact, she was one of the few people he actually could stand to hang around for extended periods of time, but she had managed to get the jump on him, and she had just delivered a threat.

“That’s not a very nice thing to say.”

“It’s cute that you think I’m nice.” she responded, moving closer and reaching out to brush Clint’s hair back off his forehead, “Clint’s the closest thing to family I have. He’s like a little brother to me.”

“Isn’t he two years older?”

“Sure, but which of us is the more mature one, and which of us is the troublemaker?” she countered.

“Fair point.”

“Exactly. He and I always have each other’s back, and usually that means out on the field, but it also goes for the emotional stuff as well, which is why I’m here now.” 

She turned her full attention onto Bucky. Or rather she turned to face him. He knew she never let her guard down, and while she had appeared to be focused on Clint, she had really been focused on him.

“Be good to him. Be open and honest with him. I understand that there is a chance that whatever this is between the two of you might not last, and I know he’ll be hurt if it ends, but if you’re upfront with him, it’ll hurt him less. If you drag it out or even worse, betray him, well, you already heard what will happen.”

“How’d you know there was something between us?”

She raised a delicate eyebrow pointedly, giving him a look that clearly asked him if he was stupid. “Really? Ignoring the fact that you have snuck down here every night to sit by his side until dawn ever since he was admitted, or the fact you literally just made a comment about date nights and kissed his hand; you two have been spending the nights in each other’s apartments back and forth, you have a toothbrush and a few sets of spare clothes in his place, and he’s been so chipper lately that he even hums in the morning  _ before _ coffee. Anyone who cares enough to pay attention can tell that he’s so happy because  _ you _ hold his hand when the two of you think no one is watching.”

“Does everyone know?” Bucky flinched.

“No. but I believe Steve suspects that something’s happened as you seem a little less like a sad grumpy murder kitten than you have been. He’s just waiting for you to be ready to open up about it.”

“Murder kitten?”

She shrugged, “Well, you sure aren’t a puppy. Clint’s the puppy.”

“You realize I’m old enough to be your grandfather, right? I was born in 1917.”

She folded her arms, “Would you rather embrace your babyface, or be treated as an old pervert?”

Bucky shut up at that.

“That’s what I thought, murder kitten.” she patted his shoulder as she slipped past him and disappeared out the door, leaving him alone once more with Clint.

Bucky sighed, sitting back down and taking Clint’s hand again, “You always say my best friend is intimidating...but yours is downright terrifying.”

“It’s just the way she shows affection.” Clint’s rough voice spoke up.

Bucky gasped, looking up to see that he’d completely missed Clint opening his eyes and being awake enough to read lips, even in the dim light of the room. Had Nat noticed? Most likely. She was the best at knowing everything, after all.

Bucky got up and filled a little paper cup with water, taking the time to help Clint take a few small sips before handing him his aids.

“How long have you been awake?” Bucky asked.

Clint shrugged, “Don’t know, but I wasn’t quite able to read your lips until...murder kitten? Did you get a cat? Did you name them murder? That’s adorable.”

Bucky chuckled, “No new pets here. Your scary friend was comparing me to one, I suppose.”

Clint gave a weak chuckle, “Suits you.”

“Should I call the nurse in?”

“Pretty Sure Nat is already on that if it’s needed right away, but you can deliver a message to Cap for me.”

“Oh?”

“He totally owes me like, three pizzas and a cup of the _good_ coffee.”

Bucky chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to Clint’s lips, “Alright, Doll, I’ll let him know in the morning.”

“Morning? What time is it?” Clint asked. “I assumed it was late evening? Does he go to bed early like an old person?”

“It’s a little past three hundred hours.”

Clint scrunched up his nose in the most adorable way, “Normal people clock, please.”

“Three in the morning.” Bucky chuckled.

“Eww, that shouldn’t exist, why am I up?”

“You’ve been up this late plenty of times.” Bucky pointed out.

“Sure but because nightmares or denial of the time. Not  _ just because _ …”

“You can go back to sleep, Doll. We can talk some more when it’s a more reasonable hour of the day.”

“I love the way you think, Kitten of murder.” Clint teased.

“Oh shush, you.” Bucky laughed, kissing Clint’s forehead, “Sleep, I’ll stay here with you a bit longer.”

Clint nodded, “Love you.”

Bucky gave a gentle smile, “I love you too.”

* * *

-End-

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
